A Song of Home
by TribeGeneral65
Summary: Sulu discovers Chekov crying in their quarters and they share the comfort of an old song from home. Chulu cuddles ensue.


_AUTHOR'S NOTE_: Little bit of sadness, which I don't usually write, but I think it all turns out fine in the end! If you are not familiar with Rachmaninoff's "All Night Vigil," and specifically movement 6, "Bogoroditse Devo," may I humbly suggest you listen to it before reading? There's a lovely recording of it in a YouTube video by TheMasterWorkChorus. It features rather prominently in the story, plus it's just a gorgeous piece of music. The scene was loosely inspired by a scene from "The West Wing" in the episode "The Crackpots and These Women" where Josh is upset and listening to Schubert's "Ave Maria."

I do not own any of the works of music referenced herein, or any of the characters from Star Trek.

Please read and let me know what you think in a review or PM! And thanks for reading!

_STORYBEGINSNOW:_

Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu had just been relieved from an extended watch and was making his way back to his quarters, which he shared with the ship's young Russian navigator, Ensign Chekov. On this five-year mission, Sulu was glad to room with Chekov; the younger officer was diligent, relatively tidy, kind, and seemingly always smiling. That's why Sulu was surprised when he reached the door of their room and heard what sounded like muffled crying over soft strains of foreign music. For a moment, Sulu thought he should leave and come back later to give Chekov some privacy, but the door was not locked, and the computer automatically opened it for Sulu after recognizing him as one of the two authorized occupants.

Sulu paused a moment at the threshold, but when he saw Chekov, his heart compelled him forward to the smaller man. The door quietly whoosed shut behind him. The music continued with a new song as Chekov propped himself from his bunk to face Sulu.

"Pavel, what's wrong? What happened?" asked Sulu gently. He was worried that someone had been picking on Chekov again; a few people had been known to make upsetting jokes at Chekov's expense, at least until Captain Kirk made it perfectly clear that Chekov was invaluable as a crew member and friend, and that he would personally escort anyone who behaved otherwise to the nearest airlock.

Chekov's eyes were red and wet from crying, and he hesitated to make direct contact with Sulu's concerned gaze. He made a small sniffle and apologized in a thicker-than-usual accent: "I am wery sorry, Sulu, I haff just had a rough day. Please do not let me disturb you." He moved to turn off the music, but Sulu put a gentle hand on Chekov's arm to stop him.

"Pavel, you're not disturbing me at all. I'm just worried about you. What's made you so upset? You can trust me." Sulu settled down beside Chekov with a caring smile. Chekov wiped his eyes and adjusted himself to sit with his back against the bulkhead facing Sulu.

"I know, Hikaru. You are wery good friend." Chekov paused, then started to explain why he was feeling so down. "I never had many friends before the Academy. But zat is not why I vas upset. Sometimes I . . . we have had so much happen and . . . sometimes I think about all ze people I have hurt . . . like Spock's mother! And I feel like such a failure, Hikaru, so lonely, so useless! Eweryone treats me like a child, and I try to tell myself not to listen to them, but they are right. You all deserve a better nawigator. I shouldn't be here."

Sulu was shocked. Chekov felt . . . useless? He could do practically any job on the ship, and probably better than the person assigned to do it in the first place. He was young but so smart and so eager to help. Pavel was a real friend to those who took the time to know him like Sulu and Uhura had, always there to listen when you had a problem, to be a comfort in tragedy, and to laugh when you wanted to celebrate in triumph. There wasn't a better navigator to be found in the Alpha Quadrant, as far as he was concerned.

"Pavel . . . shh, Pasha it's ok." The younger man had begun to cry again, and Sulu pulled him in close for a hug. "We would all be lost without you. You literally saved my life with that transporter trick. Look at me, please, Pasha." Chekov reluctantly did so. "You are not and never have been a failure. No one is perfect, but what happened wasn't your fault. You did everything you could, everything you were supposed to do. And you are here now, and there is so much in store for us! And we need you. I . . . I need you."

Pavel actually started to brighten a bit. "Do you mean that?"

"I swear on my botany lab, yes, I mean all of it," replied Sulu, pressing a soft kiss to Pavel's forehead and causing the ensign to smile.

"You're very sweet sometimes, Hikaru," said Chekov resting up against Sulu's shoulder.

The music in the background changed again. "This is a beautiful piece of music, Pavel. I've never heard you play it before. What is it?"

"It is great Russian work, from the tventieth century. Sergei Rachmaninoff's All Night Vigil. I play it sometimes when I feel homesick or sad," murmured Chekov.

Sulu listened and felt the swelling music flow all around him. "What does it say?" he asked in a reverent whisper.

"'Bogoroditse Devo, raduisya, Blagodatnaya Marie, Gospod's Toboyu.' It means 'Rejoice, O Virgin, Mary full of grace, the Lord is with you.'" Pavel hadn't realized how refreshing it was to speak Russian out loud, but uttering the simple phrase seemed to revive him. Sulu never heard Chekov speak with such consuming passion as when he spoke in Russian, and it almost made him shiver to feel such a connection to the man beside him.

As the choir built in a grand crescendo, Sulu could only observe: "It's . . . miraculous." He was utterly in awe at the emotion carried in the music. Traveling at several times the speed of light, this simple hymn reached his very core. In the midst of the stars that created the elements that comprised his body, Sulu understood why Pavel turned to this song. It held at once all the beauty and struggle and power and questioning and trembling and longing that made them human.

It was home.

Sulu felt Chekov's head nod on his shoulder in solemn agreement before the younger man yawned.

"Hikaru, I am getting sleepy." Chekov looked up at Sulu, his eyes still a bit misty but looking much more like himself.

"We should get ready for bed then," concluded Sulu.

"Da, yes" agreed Chekov. "Hikaru, would you . . . would you mind staying with me tonight, um, in my bunk? I think I would feel better with company."

"Of course, Pasha," said Sulu. "I would like that. And I would feel better too, knowing you're OK."

After they cleaned up and changed into more comfortable sleeping clothes—including an adorable set of slightly fuzzy space-themed pajamas for Pavel—the two curled up on the bunk under the sheets, the comforting weight of the blanket tucking them in, encircling them with warmth and a peaceful quiet.

As they were drifting off to sleep, Hikaru whispered to the wonderful man beside him: "You know," he began as Pavel replied with a barely-awake "Hmm?" Sulu continued: "You're very sweet sometimes, too."

Chekov smiled and sighed, pressing a bit closer to feel Sulu beside him. "And very lucky to have you here. Good night, 'karu."

For the second time that night, Sulu felt like he was home. "Good night, Pasha."


End file.
